


Bondage, Discipline, Submission, Masochism

by Alphawave



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, And of course they're having fun which is what matters in the end, BDSM, But he's learning which is the main thing, Butt Slapping, Dom/sub Play, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Kim is not the greatest dom here, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: It's Kim's first ever BDSM session, and he is taking on the role of a dom. He's planned this for weeks, he has all the things needed, and he just needs to execute it. But sometimes the best plans don't always occur. Sometimes, something even better takes its place.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Bondage, Discipline, Submission, Masochism

Today is anything but a typical afternoon. For one thing, the weather is surprisingly warm with minimal wind. Insects are flying and people are mingling outside and it’s almost like there is real, genuine life in this city instead of the shivering cold that constantly penetrates the atmosphere. Another oddity is the fact that both you and Harry have a day off—a reward for the last case you two completed. And as often occurs when the two of you have plenty of free time together, the two of you get _creative_. 

You only start to really appreciate the breadth of your collective creativity when you open your toy box and find a whole assortment of sex toys. Special condoms for special lube, fuzzy handcuffs, your violet wand, a variety of dildos in various sizes, gags, and rope. It’s enough to stock the shelves of a small sex shop for a day or two and that’s not even including the contents of the costume box, which unfortunately only contains your old Junior Officer cloak (the irony of your once prestigious officer cloak now being denigrated into a sex costume is not lost on you).

A part of you is a little bit ashamed that your collection has grown this big—especially since the majority of objects in there have only been bought recently, well past the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Harry—but you both went out and bought these together after careful deliberation and research. With few exceptions, they've all been used to pleasant results. Ashamed as you are about some of them, you haven't regretted a single purchase so far. You don't even regret your latest, arguably wildest, purchase to date.

And that brings you here, searching for a new pleasure, a new way to spice up your already spicy love life. But this isn't just any typical new pleasure you're searching for. This is the big one. A hardcore desire. You've planned and planned for this very moment. You’ve dreamt about this ever since you first heard about this decades ago from a long gone friend, of the ways you could hurt and control someone so intimately, breaking down their barriers in the hopes that it might break down yours too. Now it is time to let it come to fruition. It's time to abandon Kim Kitsuragi and become the dom.

You can hear Harry knock on the bathroom door. “Kim? Can I, uh, come out?”

You bite back the urge to make an obvious joke. Thank Dolores he can’t see you smile. “Did I say you can come out?”

Harry whines. “Kim…”

“If you keep quiet and wait for me in the bathroom like I told you to, I might reward you.” Which is a little bit of a white lie. Whether Harry acts bratty or completely subservient or a mix of the two like he usually does, you tend to reward him regardless. You know you're soft on him, and it’s partially why you’ve never attempted to take on the role of a dom before. But maybe today will be different. Clothes make the man, don’t they? Harry certainly seems to think there’s power in clothes, and he's rarely been wrong before. You reach for a third, hidden box, still in its paper bag from the shop. You gingerly open it and extract what’s inside. You shed your clothes efficiently and fold them neatly onto a chair.

“Aww, Kim, I can hear you stripping. I wanna see.”

“No peeking.” Before you forget, you add, “And no talking.”

Another muffled whine, but Harry still stays put and quiet (for now). With the silence, you put on the squeaky pants, the scratchy harness, and then the leather vest. It’s all topped off with a leather hat that, let’s be honest, will be scattered somewhere on the floor within five minutes of Harry opening the bathroom door. You put the box away, get the necessary equipment out onto the bed and prepare it all. This is your first proper BDSM session together, and you want to be prepared for any eventuality. It'll be big, amazing, better than anything else you've done in the comfort of your bedroom. It's a culmination of your relationship, a trust exercise that tests the strength of your love. You won’t have it any other way.

As you contemplate leaving your glasses on or not, you get a glimpse at your own reflection. What you see surprises you. You look different, powerful. In control. The world is at your fingertips, and you can mold it to your will. That’s the aura you give off now, but will you maintain it? You have to, for Harry’s sake as well as your own. Today, more than any other day, demands you be the one in complete and utter control. You have to be the stone to weather down Harry's chaotic storm.

You steel yourself, let out a deep breath and face the bathroom door. “You can come out now.”

There’s a few seconds, then the slow, unsure turn of the knob, and then the reveal of the warmest, most loving creature you've ever known. Harry emerges wearing a one piece vinyl bodysuit. The top half is a shirt, while the bottom half barely covers more than a bikini, highlighting Harry's surprisingly sturdy biceps, gut, thighs, and what lies between said thighs. His cheeks are pink and rosy and his eyes are wide in surprise and wonder. His lips form the most perfect 'o' shape, and you just want to kiss them hello.

You have to pat yourself on the back, Kim. You really outdone yourself this time. He looks amazing.

Harry wolf whistles at you, his lecherous smile peeking over his ruby lips. “Baby, you look mega sexy. Like…disco sexy.”

“Harry, focus.”

But he waltzes up to you, his finger circling around one of the rings of your harness—which so happens to be around your nipples. “Fuck, Kim, you really went all out. I don’t even care I was cooking like a roast in there, shit. You look amazing.”

It takes all your mental fortitude to not hiss in pleasure, but somehow it's easier to keep your face straight. Maybe clothes really do have power. “Harry,” you say, a bit firmer. "You can look but you cannot touch."

“Sorry,” he takes a step back. His eyes inevitably wander to the delicious choice of toys and objects on display on the bed. Those wide eyes of his sparkle like the stars in the night sky.

You lick your lips slowly. “Since this is our first time doing this properly, we should go over some ground rules. Safe word?”

“Chewing gum.” Not the best safe word, but Harry insisted on it. Claimed it was his way of getting over the past. It’s at least better than ‘torque dork’.

“What do you say if you want me to stop what I’m doing but still want to continue our session?” You ask.

After a few seconds pause, he says, “Yellow?”

You nod. “You’re sure you're not going to say it in the heat of the moment?”

“Of course not, Kim.”

“Good. Now stay here. Don't move a muscle.”

You head for the bed and take your time to observe all the toys, leaving Harry to stew in his own thoughts. You can almost hear them now, a cacophony of voices screaming to him about his desire and yours as well. It’s all for show. You've already decided which one you want to pick days ago, but Harry doesn't, and you just know he's going wild trying to figure out what you will do to him. Moments like these the air is electric, magnifying every sensation and every emotion that filters through your mortal body. Getting to this moment is easy. Maintaining it will be much harder, but you know you are up to the task. You have to be. You've read enough pornographic books to give you a clear enough mental picture. Today, you can finally be the cool, stern dom you always thought you could be.

Your hand finally curls around a familiar piece of equipment and brings it out into the light. The big black BDSM collar is carried with immense sacredness from its throne over to its rightful owner. Harry swallows thickly but he doesn't say anything. Excitement thunders through his veins and makes his fingers twitch, a roaring panther about to be herded to a cage. But it is nothing compared to the storm that charges your very being, zapping you to your core at the thought of Harry still and patient by you, kept horny and waiting on your every command.

You loop round behind his back and gently stroke your fingers over all the sensitive regions of his neck. “ _Kim,_ ” he whispers your name like a prayer, and he does not fight you when you carefully slide the collar around his neck and secure it tightly with the utmost reverence. You check the straps in front and are met with Harry staring up at you with a grin so warm and sacred some might have thought it belonged to the Innocence herself.

“A bit looser than usual, isn’t it?” Harry asks.

“Did I say you could speak?”

His smirk still remains. “Maybe you could punish me by making it a bit tighter, don’t you think?”

You tighten it sharply, bringing about a surprised gurgle and then a low moan. Just as quickly you loosen it back to its original setting, grabbing the leash from the bed and fastening it around the metal ring on the center of the collar.

“Kim,” Harry says, “I’m really turned on right now.”

“I know,” you say.

“No, but Kim,” he leans closer to you, “I’m _really_ turned on. Like, hardcore to the mega levels of turned on-ness.”

This time you do glance down. True to his word he is indeed, as he calls it, 'mega levels of turned on-ness'. You quickly sweep your gaze back up to his face but it's too late. He's noticed the flick of your eyes and his smirk grows wider. You'd tighten the collar again if you aren't fully aware it'd only turn Harry on more. 

Of course he doesn't make this easy for you. Whether at work or in the bedroom, he gets results but he rarely if ever makes it easy for you. You tug at the leash experimentally, pulling Harry a little bit closer to you. With every bit of control you regain, your own wicked smirk grows.

“Last chance. You can leave now or tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want this session to begin, you have to wear one more thing for me.”

“And what’s that?” Harry breathes.

From the pocket of your pants you pull out a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. A brilliant flush blossoms across Harry’s face.

“F-fuck, Kim,” he gasps.

“It’s your choice.” You twirl them around one finger. “Will you let me cuff you?” You do hope he says yes. You want him to say yes.

“Fuck, yes, Kim, cuff me.” His body practically vibrates in excitement.

You let another smile slip out as you take his hands behind his back. You’re not wearing your gloves today, so you can savor the touch of Harry’s skin. You sure Harry is doing the same with you, but whatever contact he has is brief as you clasp the handcuffs on and drift away. You double check that the key is still in your pant pockets and then take the time to admire your handiwork. Harry, in his tight little vinyl outfit, big black BDSM collar on his neck and hands behind his back, standing on attention as if he’s a soldier at your beck and call. Oh, the things you want to do to him. The ways you could please him with your fingers and your mouth. How you want to slide your growing hardness into the ridge of his ass. But not yet. You can’t rush it. Patience is a dom's greatest virtue.

With the flick of a wrist, you pull on the leash, forcing Harry onto his knees. You take a few steps back and sit down casually at the edge of the bed. You’re waiting for that moment you’ve heard about, when the person disappears and the sub appears, for Harry to transform to the image in your mind and let out all his hidden desires. You can almost taste it, it's right there in the wind, but a minute passes and nothing has changed. It’s still same old lovable Harry, staring at you ardently as always.

A part of you softens at the fondness of his gaze, and you’re struck by this increasingly strengthening feeling to hold him close and kiss him until the end of the world. But that’s not exactly in the BDSM spirit. In this realm, you have to play the part of the master. You take a deep breath. Focus, Kim. 

You take a few small items and stuff them into your pocket so Harry can’t see. Leash still in hand, you kneel down and loop it around your wrist so Harry won’t be able to move away from you. His eyes dart to your other hand, which unfurls to reveal two clothes pegs.

“I don’t think we need to do any washing today, do we?” Harry smiles.

“We probably will after this session,” you admit. “But I have a different idea for where these goes.”

You pull the small zipper at the front of Harry’s one piece teasingly slow down to his stomach and slide the vinyl down his shoulders, exposing his chest. It's not the hairiest chest you've seen, but it's definitely up there. You can't help but let your fingers curl into the thick mane on his chest, relishing in the groan that trills in the air. You almost want to moan yourself. 

Harry shivers visibly. Your hand curls around his meaty shoulder and presses down lightly. "Stay still for me and I'll reward you. Don't, and you'll get punished. And I don't think either of us want you to be punished."

"Are you sure I don't want to be punished?" He chuckles deeply.

This time you meet Harry's challenge with your own smile. "Trust me, you'd much prefer the reward. Now stay still." You barely see the flicker of surprise and want in Harry's eyes before you lean forward and let your lips suckle around his nipples.

"Oh, fuuuuck."

This close, you can taste Harry's heartbeat on your tongue. His eyes are shut closed, as are yours. He’s submitting easily for you, falling for you. And oh do you catch him, letting your tongue slither around the little nub, getting it hard and rosy. You see the slightest shake of Harry's wrists against the handcuffs as your turn your attention to the other nipple, lathing it with gentle licks until it too stands at attention. The hand on Harry's shoulder rubs soothing little circles while the other clamps the peg onto Harry's nipples one by one. There’s a slight tremor and a shuddering gasp but no real movement. He’s trying so hard to keep still for you.

“Good boy,” you coo as your hand runs gently through his hair.

Harry preens at the compliment. “Kim…”

You twist one peg slightly and watch as Harry’s face goes red with pain and pleasure.

“Gosh, Kim, fucking yes,” he gasps.

“Now now, this is only the beginning.” From a different pocket you reveal a small unassuming egg vibrator. Your hand dips down past his stomach, down his thighs, and just skims over his tented erection. “You do need to earn your reward. Can you stay still for me?”

Harry nods his head quickly, then stops. He glances down at his crotch. 

If this is a sexy radio show, this will be the moment when the sexy saxophone solo suddenly cuts out for comedic effect.

“Actually, uhhh…” he chuckles nervously. “I, uh…need the bathroom.”

Your face is completely blank. “The bathroom.”

“Yeah, I need to piss real bad. Like…really really bad.”

“But you were in the bathroom getting changed. You didn’t go then?”

“Look, I’m sorry, Kim, but I just kinda noticed now, and I really can’t hold it in much longer, and uhh…” he shakes his wrists behind him, still held tightly together by the handcuffs, “I can’t exactly do this by myself.”

You almost think this is some twisted plan on Harry’s part. But you feel his embarrassment, and you know he means this seriously. Which means you have to take him to the bathroom yourself and fucking hold his dick in place so he can piss into the toilet, because there is no way you are going to let him piss on you or the recently-mopped floors, and there is no way you are uncuffing Harry after all that effort to cuff him in the first place.

So you end up taking him to the bathroom, cuffs still on his wrists and pegs still sitting neatly on his swollen nipples, sliding his bodysuit down just enough so you can fish his dick out. And it’s hard and wet and warm and just a little bit disgusting as you are forced to divert the majority of his piss into the toilet like you are maneuvering the stick for a forklift. At least Harry looks as ashamed as you feel, not uttering a word, just watching helplessly as the last little droplets drip from his half-hard erection.

“Could you, uh, shake it a bit?”

“Absolutely not.” Your voice doesn’t shake as you grab some toilet paper and clean his cock up. You flush the toilet, wash your hands, and finally return to the bedroom.

You lead Harry back down to the position he was in before. He’s on his knees, looking up at you as if the spark is still there between you. That delicious tension gets heavier and heavier as you contemplate your words.

“Now, where were we?”

Harry smiles back. “You were going to making me earn a reward?”

“Good that you remember. Now, if there are no further interruptions, let’s see you complete your—”

But before you can finish your sentence, the doorbell rings. You’re unsure if that annoyed groan came from you or Harry.

“Shit,” you mutter.

“Kim?”

“Just…ignore it. Now, for you to earn your rew—”

But they ring the doorbell again, and again, and you pray to Dolores herself that you don’t murder whoever it is that’s decided to ring your doorbell at 3pm in the afternoon. You storm out of the bedroom and get closer to that insistent ringing. You almost open the front door before you remember that you’re wearing a vest, harness, and incredibly tight leather-looking pants. In other words, the most homosexual outfit to ever homosexual on this planet. There's a few ways you'd want to out yourself, and this is certainly not one of them.

You hurriedly take the hat off your head, adjust your glasses and smooth your hair, and open the door just a fraction. “Yes?”

“Package for Kim Katsukitty?” The mailman’s young, honest face almost surprises you.

“It’s Kitsuragi.”

The man peers at something on his hand. “So it is. Anyway, I need you to sign it?”

OK, here’s the challenge. Just reach your hand out all casual-like through the gap in the door and take the clipboard and pen. Write down your signature and hand it back. Simple enough, and the mailman isn’t staring at you like you’re some kind of freak. Ace’s high, ace’s low, Kim. You did it.

“OK, so this package is kinda big. You wanna open that door up a bit more?”

Aaaand there it is. “I’m sorry?”

“Since you signed it, I can’t leave this package alone until you received it.” The mailman shrugs. “Company rules, man. Can’t do anything about it.”

You have to think fast. Anything. “I’m, uh, naked behind the door.” Maybe too fast.

“Look, mate, I work post. I’ve seen shit most other blokes wouldn’t believe. You're not even the first dude I saw naked today.” You can hear him shiver in disgust. “A-anyway, just grab the package so I can get on with my job already.”

There’s nothing to it, is there? You open the doorway just enough for your hands to grab the package and pull it inside. You see the mailman’s eyes widen comically, his mouth agape. He inhales, a question on his lips, but you slam the door shut before he can say anything.

Well, you think, that could not have gone any worse.

“Did something come in?!” Harry calls from the bedroom.

“Package!” You shout. You glimpse at the label on the side and frown. You don't recognise the label, which leads you to suggest that Harry bought it and put your name in for the address. You hope it's not something you're going to regret. Honestly, you'll find out later.

Finally, you return to the bedroom, where Harry is still sitting patiently. He's far more relaxed now, not tense like he was moments before. He must have psyched himself up while you were handling the mail.

“Something come in?” Harry asks.

“Big package. And no, I am not talking about your penis.” You take the leash back into your hand and dig into the pocket of your pants. In your hand you reveal a small, egg-shaped vibrator. “You still want to earn your reward?”

“You know me, Kim. Always ready to please.”

And just like that, you're back on track. You smile. “Good.”

You position the vibrator right where you want it, between Harry’s legs and right underneath his quivering, clothed asshole. The material is light enough that the sensation should easily travel through to his skin. Harry is thoroughly subdued and erect, and the equipment has been set out. You feel that warm thrill heat up your body. If nothing else happens, the rest of your day can go according to plan. Barring your interruptions, everything will go perfectly. This will be so good, you are doing so good. All that is required is to flick the switch for the vibrator, turn it on and—

…Where’s the switch for the vibrator?

You check your pockets as casually as you can, but it’s no use because you’d feel that bulky thing pressing into your hip. Your eyes flicker back to the bed, wondering if it's somewhere within that mess of cables and dildos, but it’s hard to tell from this angle.

“Uhhh…Kim?”

You try to keep your face blank as you quickly stand up and observe everything you’ve set out on the bed. There’s three types of rope, five different dildos (two for you, three for Harry), and dozens of gadgets made to activate other gadgets, but no switch. But you can't have lost it. If it's not on you, it must be on the bed somewhere. You definitely had it. You can't have lost the very thing that was supposed to make this session amazing.

“Kim?”

“Give me a moment.”

“Kim, it’s fine. Just do something else.”

 _It’s not fine_ , you want to grumble, but only by your willpower do you stop yourself. New plan, it is. You sit down in front of Harry and slide your knee firmly into his crotch. He’s so deliciously hard, and you can practically feel the texture of his hard-on through the thin vinyl.

“I’m not wearing underwear. Just like you told me,” Harry purrs. Bless his heart, he's trying to bring the magic back. You have to commend his efforts. 

You drive your knee further into him, making him shiver. His hips slowly glide in and out, rutting himself on your knee, not even caring that he’s making such a spectacle of himself. You twist the pegs on his nipples and watch his brows twist in turn. He bites into his lip, hands straining against the soft handcuffs, sweat beading at his forehead. How you want to lick that sweat off. How you’d like to bite him on the neck and drive your fat cock hard and fast into him and make him swear upon the gods that control his mind that only you can whisper your every thought into his head.

“What did I say about staying still?”

Harry stops rolling his hips and bites harder onto his bottom lip. He closes his eyes shut and squeezes his fists. He’s so close to breaking, you're starting to feel a little guilty. But isn’t the whole point of this exercise to go beyond your normal limits? He can take it. You both know he can do extraordinary things.

You twist his nipples harder, shift your knee even closer to his crotch. Harry’s face is bright red, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps. His tear-stained eyes open slowly to look up at you, and you wonder idly if he wants you to stop. But he doesn’t say a thing, just submits fully and willingly to you, resting his body and soul in your prone hands, waiting to be molded to your every desire. Why does he think he’s something ugly and undesirable and not the sweetest soul to roam the lands?

“Kim…” he breathes. “Fuck, please, give it to me.”

“Give what to you?” You twist the pegs counterclockwise. Harry swallows down a groan. “You have to tell me specifically.”

“Baby, I want to touch you. Please, I’ll be so good for you.”

“We’re barely just begun and you’re already asking for a reward?” You tut your lips. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You tug at the pegs and this time Harry sings so beautifully for you. His lips are inexplicably pulled up into a smile. You swallow down the urge to kiss him as your fingers trail down to the zipper of Harry’s one-piece, slowly sliding it all the way to the bottom. Harry’s cock pops out, slick and crimson, and he sighs lightly in relief. It's not as magical, seeing as you had to do this moments ago to help him piss, but the thrill thrums in your chest regardless. 

Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, but you don’t move. Not until you’re sure Harry is devoting all his attention to you. Not until the world is washed in a cloud of monochrome and you’re the only thing in colour. You won’t settle for less.

“Baby…”

Your other hand grabs the nearest lube bottle and squirts a generous amount. Harry watches as it oozes and drips from your fingertips. “Be still for me, _Harrier_.”

You grasp him firmly by the cock and begin to jerk him off. Already his body fights, wanting to move and writhe, to release all the pent-up energy in his body. He grits his teeth hard, but you can hear his half-suppressed shudders. Any other day you might show him a bit of mercy, but you’re the one in control and you’ve planned this out, so you kick it up a notch and accelerate the speed of your strokes. Your hand dips down to kiss his base before sliding up, twisting near the top, squeezing every little droplet that beads from his short, fat cock.

It’s hard not to get aroused from a sight like this, and you can feel your cock strain uncomfortably inside your sexy, slightly-too-tight pants. You’re sure Harry must notice, except his gaze is not at the camp site tented in front of your groin. He’s looking you in the eye, smiling cheekily like this place and moment is exactly where and when he wants to be. Like this, he feels so mythical and unattainable, a cryptid that only shows its face to those that are worthy. But this cryptid can’t be controlled. You can chain it up, tie it down, train it until it obeys your order, but you’ll never break its spirit.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

Your breath hitches. Instinctively, your hand curls around the leash. You’re not sure what you’d do with it, but it makes you feel a little bit more safe.

“Gonna punish me with that leash?” His chuckle quickly transforms into a groan. “Shit, just do it. Fuck me up hardcore. Wreck me up.”

“That’s not why I wanted to do this.” Were your ears always this warm? Has Harry always been able to see right through you? You dip down and suck lightly on his balls, hoping it will shut him up. All it does, however, is make him moan softly into you.

“Then why not make it the reason? I could be a bad, bad boy for you. Be a filthy cop. Maybe you’d punish me then.”

“I want this session to go perfect,” you swallow. Control seems to slip out of your slick grasp. Perfection and ecstasy seems like a distant memory. Failure looms overhead in the shape of a cock. 

“Kim,” Harry chuckles, “you wanna fuck me, right?”

To your benefit you don’t give him a response. Your hand moves up to stroke him once more, spreading his precum up and down his shaft. His cock pulses in your hand.

“You do realize this zipper doesn’t just go all the way up my back as well, right? You gotta uncuff me for that. And when I'm uncuffed, I'm not going to stay still, I can tell you that much.”

You blink. You couldn’t have missed something so tiny and insignificant like that. But your gaze goes to the zipper just underneath Harry’s balls and see that it cannot go any further. How could you be so stupid? You planned this. You want this to go well. You need this to go well.

“You really think today was going to go perfectly?” Harry laughs that knowing laugh when he sees your thoughts so perfectly.

Frustration mounts at your throat. “I was hoping it would.”

“Fuck perfect. Fuck it right up the asshole. Just do what you want to do.”

“You just want an excuse for me to hurt you.” You’re so turned on it hurts, but not yet. You can’t have him yet. It’s not part of the plan. It’s not what a dom would do.

“And what if I said I want to get hurt?” Harry whispers.

Something inside you snaps as you tug at the leash and pull Harry’s lips onto yours. It’s all bite, teeth and little tongue, taking without giving, a fight for supremacy. He’ll submit for you, and you gain the upper hand, and you can leave Kim behind to become the mask handcrafted for you.

You wish things turned out that way. But that’s not what happens. Instead, Harry slides his tongue gently across your palate and you feel the world shift at your feet as you’re suddenly overwhelmed by a burst of pure love, and suddenly the mask you wear crumbles to the floor. You kiss him hard, properly, because that’s how Kim kisses, and despite your attempts to deny it this balmy afternoon, you are Kim. And Harry knows this, which is why he reciprocates, pulling your whispered moans and whines from your soul with his treacherous tongue.

It’s eons when your lips finally drift away. You’re breathing heavily now. You know your cheeks are pink from exertion and that your hat is lopsided. You want to be hard and firm, a stern dom that doesn’t show any weakness, but the complete opposite shines before you in Harry’s beautiful, prismatic eyes.

That’s the thing about doms, isn’t it? They don’t have to care about their subs. They can be rough and cruel, because they don’t care. But you do care. That’s what makes you Kim. That’s why Harry loves you so much.

It hits you like a car crash. “I can’t…I can’t do this.”

“Huh?”

Quickly you loop behind Harry and uncuff him from the fluffy handcuffs. You return in front of him, and for the next few seconds you just sit there, head ducked down in shame. It’s your fault for being influenced by some trashy pornos you’ve read. Some fantasies just aren’t possible.

“Kim, what’s going on?” Harry asks, concerned.

“I’m just…not cut out for this. Let’s just do what we normally do.”

“Are you sure? Really sure?”

Your lips are pulled tight. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from frowning.

There’s a moment where Harry just stares at his hands. And then that treacherous grin returns, and he pushes you down onto the floor, kissing you roughly, ravaging you completely. His grabby little hands smooth over your vest and trail over the metal rings around your nipples. He palms your package and rakes his nails down your stomach, unraveling you with his magic touch. 

“Nnngh, Harry.”

“You feel so good,” he murmurs against your skin. A kiss is pressed to your jugular and you keen against him. “You taste so good.”

You want to protest but he’s holding you down with the right amount of force. Two fingers sit on the edge of your bottom lip and instinctively you open your mouth and let your tongue swirl around them. It's utterly shameful how quickly you fall into this, sucking on his fingers so greedily, letting him slide your too-tight pants off and leave you fully exposed to him.

He slides his saliva-slicked fingers into your throat as if it’s a different appendage altogether, and you whine, brash and shy. Your tongue dips down to the webbing before pulling up and suckling at his fingertips. His other hand curls around your cock, and almost immediately you start fucking up into his grip, desperate for the friction.

This is what you really deserve, isn’t it? What were you fooling yourself with earlier? Pretending you could be the dom? Pretending you could take care of Harry? You’re the one that needs to be taken cared of. You’re the one that still feels the need to hide behind a mask of professional indifference when you both know you do feel and you do love. And Fuck, do you love, and that love is all centered on the man whose thumb you’re sucking on so reverently, it’s almost like a placeholder for something thicker and slightly longer. You love him so much, and fuck, why did you have to ruin it with a shitty BDSM session?

But then why is Harry looking at you like he’s still so hopelessly in love with you? Why isn’t he slicking himself with the lube and leave you squirming like he normally does on a weekly basis? Why doesn’t he just do something to you?

“Shouldn’t you be punishing me now?” Harry purrs. His hand twists at the head, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars.

“H-huh?”

“I’m being naughty.” He rakes his fingers over your abs. “Touching you when I shouldn’t.” His hips grind against yours. “Not staying still. That's naughty, isn't it?”

You realise he’s giving you a lifeline, but you still look so soft and weak in the reflection of his gaze. You turn your head away. “I-I’m doing a horrible job at being a dom, aren’t I?”

“Well fuck, if you did a good job every time you did something for the first time, I wouldn’t think you’re human.” He smiles sympathetically. “Come on. I know you’ve still got plenty more up your sleeve. You’ve got some learning to do but I,” he smacks his own bottom playfully, “need to be taught a lesson, don’t I?”

You shake your head, laughing at a joke that isn’t even all that funny. Of course you’re making a bigger deal of this than it needs to be. Of course Harry is so fucking easy to please. Your hands curl around his torso and in one sweeping motion you roll both your bodies, reversing your positions.

Harry revs, grabby hands reaching for your vest but you lightly slap them away. You straddle his lap and pull Harry’s bodysuit off and away from his body. His cock thwacks you lightly on your bottom, which gives you the brilliant idea of rocking your hips against his erection. “Shit, Kim, mmmm…”

Your breath is so close to Harry’s ear. You take the leash in your hand and feel that electricity once more. “Do you want to be punished?”

“Fuck, I do.”

You pull his face towards you, forcing his head closer to yours. Fucking Harry, always ruining your plans, always saving them at the last minute. There’s no hiding the excited smile spread across your face. “Will you beg for it? Plead for it?”

“Yes,” he gasps.

“Then beg for me, Harrier. Plead to me your innermost desires, and maybe I might fulfill them.”

His lips fall open for several seconds, wondering if he imagined you saying his full name or not. You know how to make this one name sound extra sweet, even when you don’t intend to. A million flickering colours splat across his irises, but he never looks away. The tension builds between the atoms of your bodies. You’re dangling the bait once more, but will he bite?

Harry licks his lips. “I’ll do anything you want, Kim. Anything. Just please, punish me. I want you to hurt me a little. Just enough to get on the edge.”

Your free hand cups his cheek. “And how might you want me to punish you this time?”

“Choke me. Rough me up. I dunno, it doesn’t fucking matter. Just fuck me up real good.”

You hum thoughtfully. “And what if I don’t think you deserve to get hurt?”

Harry chokes on his own breath. You’ve caught him off guard. “Kim, you know I like it rough.”

“But you don’t deserve to get hurt. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” Harry breathes.

You grin. “There is. If you’ll let me show you.”

“This, I have to see.”

“Then stand up, hands by your side. You won’t touch me unless I tell you that you can.”

Harry whines a little but complies to your order. His eyes dart down to the leash, hanging next to him, then to your dripping cock. You almost want to reward him for being so compliant, for being so willing to give you another chance, but you don’t want to waste it. You bridge the gap between your souls and pull him in for a searing hot kiss. Your tongues slide together easily, exploring familiar caves and carving familiar patterns. It’s far too short for either your liking, but it’s only the beginning of what you have in mind. You clear some space on the edge of the bed, turn Harry around, and push him down by the wrists so his chest lies on the bed.

Harry shivers as you adjust him, pushing his bare bottom higher and higher, lining it up against your cock. Your hand trails over the surprisingly smooth surface of his ass, down his crack and dipping into his neglected hole. Harry moans softly into the sheets, spreading his legs without prompting.

“Kim, just fuck me already.”

You take some lube nearby and squirt a healthy amount onto your fingers. You finger him in a piston-like motion, bringing Harry to the edge before slowing down to a crawl. He’s surprisingly loose, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s that excited to get fucked or if he had prepared himself in the bathroom while waiting for you.

Harry sashays his hips at you. “Come on, Kim. Fuck me already.”

You slap him playfully on the ass, making him groan. “Not yet,” you laugh.

When you’re sure he’s ready, you rock your hard cock against the crack of Harry’s ass. You hiss slightly and let your shoulders fall and your head rise to the ceiling because fuck, you’ve been putting this off for too long already. You rock your hips against Harry, whispers of your moans escaping your agape mouth. By Elysium, you want to fuck him so badly. You want to love him in the most hardcore way two men can love each other. You’re rutting into his ass like you haven’t had sex for years instead of only last week, like you’re a juvie and not a fully grown adult with responsibilities and a shamefully large collection of sex toys and an even more shameful list of kinks. And just like a teenager without responsibilities, you decide to do something spontaneous and very, very stupid.

You slick your cock up full of lube and press the head to Harry’s entrance. From the crack in Harry’s voice, you can tell he knows what’s about to happen. “Oh, _fuck_.”

You lean forward and let your lips kiss the edge of his earlobe. “You know what, Harry?” You whisper. “I am way too fucking soft on you.”

It’s a tantalizingly slow slide, and it feels like all the music of the world cut out, leaving you to fill in the blanks with your soft breaths. And fuck is Harry just the right amount of tightness, back muscles in flex as he shifts his hips back to you, meeting you halfway. You slap his ass more firmly, leaving behind a red handprint that quickly fades back to flesh. Harry croons a tune of pleasure and pain for you alone. Oh, how you love to hear Harry sing.

“What is it about you and not staying still when you need to?”

“Kim,” he gasps.

You nibble on his earlobe while you fuck him, slow but hard, quickly building up speed. Going bareback like this, there is no way you can last long because fuck, he’s so tight and warm around your cock, but you want to make this last and feel good and feel _amazing._ You want this to be the first of many sessions together, all in which Harry submits for you sublimely just like he submits for you now. You want this fire in your soul to consume you bit by bit, pulling you further and further into the depths of your own depravity. Just as long as Harry is there to fall with you.

When Harry groans, you slap him once more, the sound penetrating the room. “C-count the slaps. You can cum when we get to ten. Don’t you dare get off until then.”

“You can’t last that long,” Harry chuckles. You’d ask him how he knows, but this is Harry you’re talking about. It could be written on your face, or the shift of your hips, or the way your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass.

You slap him hard, making him yelp. “Number?”

“F-f-four?” he whimpers.

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't...I don't know,” he breathes.

Another slap, slightly softer than before. Harry’s ass is turning a delicious cherry colour, not unlike the tint of his cheeks.

“It is five. I'm not counting the one you did to yourself earlier. Can you say the number five?”

“Five,” Harry shudders.

You chuckle warmly. “Good boy. Now, stay still and count when prompted. You’re doing so good for me.”

Your hips snap roughly into Harry, punctuating it with a slap. Six, seven, and eight flash by quickly, which is why you delay the ninth. Harry moans your name like it’s the lewdest word in existence, and it makes you feel like a dirty old man, the ebb of your orgasm rising with the tide. But you want to cum with Harry, and fuck, why does his stamina for investigation also correspond to his sexual stamina? You want to get him close. You’ve got to fuck him harder.

“Mmmmmm, fuck, Kim…” Harry murmurs into the sheets. His hands clench so tightly onto the bed and his ass is sure to bruise by tomorrow morning, but he’s smiling like an idiot. Your idiot, you quickly correct. “Fuck, Kim, I’m getting so close.”

“S-so am I,” you admit slowly. Your hand reaches to slap Harry’s ass again, but your cock almost slips out in response, and thus the slap is pitifully weak in comparison. Harry groans.

“Kim, shit, give it to me, baby. One more time, I need to cum, I wanna cum.”

“Number?”

Harry moans. “Nine, fuck, and before you ask you can cum in or out. You can even try and shoot for the ceiling, just fuck what’s left of my brain out. Wanna get to disco zero.”

You can’t keep up this pace. Your hips slam upon his hips to create the dirtiest melody to ever be created. Harry’s babbling now, talking about discos and you and all the ways the two of you can boogie. For once you want to join him in his dance. You’re getting so close yourself. Just one more slap. Just a few deep and rough thrusts in and out. Just have to hit Harry’s prostate at the perfect, brutal angle.

Your trembling hands try to reach for his ass, but you no longer have the strength to lift them off his skin. If you let go, you will lose yourself to the rapture. But you can’t get your release if you don’t give him that final slap. Harry must know this, because he turns his head to you—eyes glittering with tears, cheeks as ruddy as his ass— and playfully slaps his own ass. “T-ten,” he smirks triumphantly.

Just that one word flicks on a switch inside you, and suddenly all your tense muscles relax, and you spill into Harry, filling him, overflowing him. Harry chuckles or laughs, you’re not sure which it’s more like, and then he wraps his hand around his cock and casually strokes himself to his completion. He’s so loud when he moans, shivers so delightfully against your hips that you almost feel yourself get hard from the sensation alone. But first, you must tentatively pull your leaking cock out of Harry’s ass, clean yourself up with the nearby towel, and then clean Harry up.

He turns around so he’s on his back, that brilliant smile upon his face once more that never fails to make you feel warm and safe. A smile plays on your lips. “You can touch me now.”

Not a moment later and his grabby hands reach for your waist, and you don’t fight him as he pulls you towards him with a surprising amount of strength and ease. He’s messing up your efforts to soothe his bruises with messy, affectionate kisses to your lips and your neck. Warmth builds up in your lungs as you reciprocate the only way you can. The sanctity of the BDSM session has gone, leaving you just with Kim and Harry, but they’re still blind to the world as you kiss and suck slowly.

It takes a while for enough of your strength to return before you can speak normally again. You adjust your foggy glasses. “How was it?”

Harry kisses your chin. “You’re shit at being a dom.”

“I realize that,” you frown. “It’s not what I’m used to acting like.”

“I figured. The Kim I know is naturally cool. Dom!Kim tries too hard.” He pulls you closer and snuggles his cheek into your hair.

“So. Dom!Kim is out?”

Harry shakes his head, laughing. “You don’t need to put on a performance for me. I like the real Kim. And real Kim acting like a badass sex master? Fuck, that would be the cherry on top. And you got there at the end.”

You chuckle lightly to yourself, sliding your glasses off your face and depositing them on the nearby bedside table. “C’mon. Let’s wash up.”

“Sure. After you get the harness off,” Harry winks.

You roll your eyes, but do as he says. Blind as you are without your glasses, you’re still able to lead Harry to the bathroom without trouble, and set up a bath with some Epsom salts. Neither of you say anything while you wait for the bath to fill. You just watch the swirling bubbles slowly rise up and reminisce of the moment you shared. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from worrying about Harry’s opinion, whether he wants to have another BDSM session in the future or if it’s not for him. As disappointed as you’ll be if another session won’t ever happen, you care far more about Harry’s comfort than your own selfish desires.

Harry begins to lower himself into the bath, but then stops, waving you forward. “Come on, share it with me. I ain’t hogging this for myself.”

The bath is pitifully small, not even as big as the one in the Whirling. Before Harry, you never had a chance to really use it. “I’m not sure it will fit both of us.”

“C’mon, Kim. Don’t you wanna have a bath as well?”

You stare at the hot, inviting water. “Ah, fuck it,” you say as you lower yourself in at the opposite end of the bath, adjusting your legs so they’re framing Harry’s sides, and vice versa. The water feels good, and despite how uncomfortable this position is, you feel a lot more relaxed. A quiet breath released up to the air, intermingling with the steam.

“Scale of one to ten,” Harry says. “How’d the BDSM session go for you?”

Is it possible to say eleven? Probably not. Harry will ridicule you for it, in his own special Harry way. “I’ll give it a six. If I didn’t lose the switch for the vibrator and we didn’t keep getting interrupted, it probably would have been better.”

“All according to your plan?” Harry waggles his eyebrows at you.

“Yes,” you say. “I had a very good plan. But someone insisted on me being more spontaneous, didn’t they?” You raise your eyebrows knowingly.

“Hey, I do love seeing you get creative,” Harry laughs.

“Sure you do,” you smile. “What about you? Scale of one to ten?”

“What do you think?”

You reach for the bottle of shampoo and lather it into your hair. “I don’t think. That’s why I am asking.”

“Probably a six as well, to be honest. Dom!Kim wasn’t authentic to the experience. But apart from that I had fun.” As if to make a point, he rubs his ass. “Remind me not to sit down on anything hard tomorrow.”

Your lips dip. “Are you OK? I can rub an ointment on you to help soothe the pain.”

“It’s fine, we can do it after the bath,” he says. “But anyway, if you want my opinion, I’d like to do this again someday. The whole BDSM thing, I mean.”

“Huh?”

Harry smiles brightly. “I know you were having fun, especially towards the end. And so did I. Fuck, I almost felt like I was going to faint for a second back then, but in a good way. The sexy disco way.”

There’s no hiding the excitement on your lips. Possibilities fill your mind to the brim, of all the ways you can tie and restrain Harry to your heart’s content. But you have to play it cool. Play it natural. “I think I can pencil you in for an appointment.”

Harry’s sitting up on the bath now to help you wash the shampoo from your hair. His fingers linger on your roots. “So what if I said I’d like to do a round two maybe…next week? If we get time off on the weekend? My only request is that I get the real Kim, warts and all. Think that's alright?”

You lean forward and give him a quick peck to the cheek when he least expects it. “I’d love to.”

Is it fireworks going off, or are these iridescent lights really part of the landscape of Harry’s face? Happiness and joy overwhelms his face, for once hiding the deep sadness that remains transfixed to his countenance. It’s a bit of an overreaction honestly. You don’t think Harry would react so earnestly for the promise of more sex. Unless…

Your face goes red in an instance. “I-I said _I’d love to_ , not _I love you_. Not that I don’t, just…” You stop yourself before you say anything else incriminating.

But Harry smirks triumphantly and wipes away a wet strand plastered against your cheek. “This is a moment for the history books. Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi, coolest man to ever love, is blushing.”

You flick a few beads of water at his face (you can’t take the juvie out of the cop, you always say whenever you do something absolutely childish). “Don’t be an ass, Harry.”

Harry laughs, which makes you laugh, the two of you making a warm melody only your two voices can make. You help each other wash up (not without having a little makeout session), and then you exit the bathtub together. You catch a glimpse of your reflection and see that you are indeed blushing, and not just from the tips of your ears. It's spread out over your face, a crimson flush that rivals Harry's own, a testament to your weakness and your humanity. It should make you feel shameful, but you feel too relaxed to care. With a stick in your mouth, you'll be on cloud nine. Plus, the smoke would hide the blush, won't it?

You look back at Harry and wonder how his face would transform if you confessed to him now. A chuckle bubbles out of you. This really isn't a typical afternoon if you genuinely considered saying it. Not yet, but soon. Better to catch him when he least expects it.

“So what were you looking for earlier? You know, what made you panic just now?” Harry asks as he messily dries his body.

“The switch for the vibrator,” you admit. There's no point in hiding it anymore now that you're Kim and Harry again. “Most of my plans today involved that vibrator, and now I can't use it.”

“The vibrator switch? Isn't it over there?”

You follow Harry's finger to the bedside table where you deposited your glasses. Sure enough, next to your glasses and your bottle of water, the unmistakable grey oblong that is the vibrator switch.

Something inside of you snaps. You're blind, but are you really that blind? It was right _there_?!

A hand taps you on the shoulder. “Uh...Kim?”

“FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!”


End file.
